


i'm seeing the pain (feeling the pleasure)

by Splatx



Series: Kinktober 2020 [14]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: "Fucking Machine", #16, Breeding Bench, Day 16, Dry Orgasm, Dutch saves the day, Dutch shows up at the end for like, Fucking Bench, Fucking Machines, Kinda, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kinktober2020, Magical Artifact(?), Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, Prompt 16, Prostate Milking, Semen Collection, Sperm Collection, Tied-Down, five seconds, magical dildo, skyrim based, tied-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splatx/pseuds/Splatx
Summary: Kinktober 2020, #16: "Fucking Machine"‘No matter what,’ Dutch always said, ‘never go into Tahrovinun.’They raided more than their fair share of ruins. Came out of it laden with treasures, jewelry and diamonds and straight-up money, though raiding ruins was dangerous, was only to be done in pairs or in groups - if they could, they were to rob travelers, rob wagons.Never Tahrovinun though. No one dared touch it - even the O’Driscolls gave it a wide berth.Folk whispered about it. Some said it was a falmer nest, so thick with them you’d be swarmed as soon as you stepped in. Others said it was a dragon nest, much the same.No one was quite sure, but it hadn’t been touched since being sealed generations ago.
Series: Kinktober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947451
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	i'm seeing the pain (feeling the pleasure)

###  _I'm seeing the pain, feeling the pleasure_  
~Pillowtalk, Zayn

 _‘No matter what,’_ Dutch always said, _‘never go into Tahrovinun.’_

They raided more than their fair share of ruins. Came out of it laden with treasures, jewelry and diamonds and straight-up money, though raiding ruins was dangerous, was only to be done in pairs or in groups - if they could, they were to rob travelers, rob wagons.

_Never_ Tahrovinun though. No one dared touch it - even the O’Driscolls gave it a wide berth.

Folk whispered about it. Some said it was a falmer nest, so thick with them you’d be swarmed as soon as you stepped in. Others said it was a dragon nest, much the same.

No one was quite sure, but it hadn’t been touched since being sealed generations ago.

  
  


And his family was desperate.

They’d lost all their money - all their valuables they’d intended on fencing - as they fled Blackwater, guards hot on their heels and, though their camp was nice enough, they were struggling to get enough food to fill their stomachs.

Tahrovinun, if he could manage it, would surely fill their pockets enough to get them somewhere _safe,_ with food for years. And if he died… well, he’d die trying to provide for his family.

So he fastened Barroc to a nearby tree, fastening his crossbow to his belt and drawing his longsword, approaching Tahrovinun’s door. It was _massive,_ and he could see where folk had tried to open it before, cowarding out before opening it, hand-prints greasy on the stained-glass mural of… well, he wasn’t quite so what it was of, some sort of woman?

It opened easily, the door sliding open with no lock to block the way. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he almost fled back for Barroc but - _‘for my family’_ \- and he stepped inside and then

he knew nothing more.

  
  


He woke as he came. Shouted, tried to arch his back only to find himself unable to and _oh fuck what’s going on_ but something was pumping his cock as he came, drawing out his orgasm until it _hurt_ though it felt strange, almost cool and smooth, not like his hand at all, and by the time it stopped, still cradling him but not squeezing or sucking he was whimpering, squirming and trying to pull away.

But he was well and truly bound, fastened down to something _cold_ and rounded so his limbs dangled down, and he considered himself lucky that his shackles were padded as he’d been pulling at them, would surely have flayed his skin, trying to pull away from the _too much_ pleasure, high enough off the ground that his limbs dangled though there was very little slack to the chains and, he could tell from the weight around his ankles, they were bound much the same.

  
  


“What the he- _ell!”_ his voice jumped as _something_ pressed into his ass, and pleasure shot through him. The thing - round and smooth and somewhat warm - drew back and he squirmed, tried to pull away, but his feet were held off the ground and he couldn’t get any traction, couldn’t brace himself, could just barely tighten his thighs on the bench beneath him but _fuck ow_ his cock was stuck through a hole in it, trapped in… something, he tried to look beneath him but he was pulled back enough on the bench that he could barely dangle his head and so all he could do was shout as it pressed in again and rubbed against _something_ and pleasure shot through him again, and again, and again as the thrusting picked up.

“Fuck!” he barked, clenching the chains in his hand as he fucked into whatever it was that was gripping his cock, feeling it begin to grip and release in time with whatever was thrusting into his ass, flexing his toes and grasping so tight to the chains he could feel them shredding his skin. He panted, growling “shit, shit, shit,” over and over, hips fucking into the hole until, with a final thrust aimed right at his prostate, he came.

Arthur yelled, his whole body locking up, the machine still thrusting into his prostate, the cock sheath pulsing as it milked him, drawing as much of his cum out as it could until he was yelling with over-sensitivity, trying to arch up and away but couldn’t, eyes glassy and _what the fuck_ for the first time he could make out the tube leading away from the bench, white with his seed, _what the fuck is this_ but then the the machine was thrusting against his prostate again, drawing another orgasm out of him, then another, and another.

As he came, only managing to dribble a few drops of cum, he blacked out.

  
  


When he woke up, there was a mask on his face, holding a tube in his mouth. He panicked, tried to pull away, but he was still well bound and the machine was _still fucking his ass_ and he was _coming,_ dripping into the sheath. And then there was _water,_ blessed water, dribbled into his mouth between jostling thrusts, and he gulped it down, tried suckling on the tube though he felt the fool - more than he already was, taking some sort of machine (magical in origin, surely, and god but he hated magic) up his ass while another collected his seed and he dreaded to know why - but it refused to give him more, carefully doling out small amounts so he didn’t choke, the machine shoving him forward on the bench with each thrust.

  
  


He was going to die.

He was going to die being fucked by a machine.

God, he hoped whatever was running this machine disposed of his body. He didn’t want to be found being fucked, flung around limply, who-knows-how-long in the future.

His dick _hurt,_ was screaming raw, and even though the machine had started pouring water down his throat he’d stopped producing, orgasms agonizingly dry, tears streaming down his face. Arthur felt like a live-wire, his whole body thrumming, screaming, _too much_ and _not enough_ at the same time, muscles trembling from fucking into the sheath, hands raw from clawing at the chains.

_‘I’m going to die from being fucked.’_

  
  


“Jesus fucking _christ,_ Arthur?!”

Strike that, he was going to die from utter humiliation.

He looked up, met Dutch’s eyes, and tried to say… well, he wasn’t sure what. _‘Kill me,’_ maybe, or _‘Get me the fuck out of this thing!’_ but he’d screamed himself hoarse and could only manage a pitiful whine, sobbing as he was jolted forward on the bench.

“Jesus christ Arthur, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” and bless the man but he averted his eyes, trying to give him _some_ semblance of privacy as he stepped forward, shucking his coat and flinging it over him before kneeling, trying to figure out how to get him free.


End file.
